Alph. What lady's that that kneels ?

Cast. The chaste Evanthe.

Alph. Sweet, your petition?
Evan. 'Tis for this bad man, sir,
Abominable bad, but yet my brother.

Alph. The bad man shall attend as bad a master, And both shall be confined within the monastery: His rank flesh shall be pull'd with daily fasting; But once a-week he shall smell meat, he'll surfeit else;

And his immodest mind compell'd to prayer;
On the bare boards he shall lie, to remember
The wantonness he did commit in beds;
And drink fair water; that will ne'er enflame him :
He saved my life, though he purposed to destroy
[rable.
For which I'll save his, though I make it mise-

me,

Madam, at court I shall desire your company; You are wise and virtuous; when you please to visit

My brother Frederick, you shall have our licence.— My dear best friend Valerio !

Val. Save Alphonso!

All. Long live Alphonso, king of us, and Naples! Alph. Is this the lady that the wonder goes on? Honour'd sweet maid! Here, take her, my Valerio; The king now gives her, she is thine own without fear.

Brother, have you so much provision that is good,
Not season'd by Sorano and his cooks,

That we may venture on with honest safety,
We and our friends?

Fred. All that I have is yours, sir.
Alph. Come then; let's in, and end this nup-
Then to our coronation with all speed !-- [tial;
My virtuous maid, this day I'll be your bride-man,
And see you bedded to your own desires too.-
Beshrew me, lords, who is not merry hates me!
Only Sorano shall not bear my cup.
Come, now forget old pains and injuries,
As I must do, and drown all in fair healths:
That kingdom's blessed, where the king begins
His true love first, for there all loves are twins.
[Exeunt.

SCENE,

Master and Keepers of the Mad Folks.

A Scholar,

A Parson,

An Englishman,

JENKIN, a Welshman,

}

Madmen.

Courtiers, Porter, Three Gentlemen, and Four Peasants.

ALINDA, Daughter to ALPHONSO.

JULETTA, ALINDA's Maid, a Witty Lass.

Fool.

Ladies.

SCENE I.-The Country. A Room in the Castle of ALPHONSO.

Enter ALPHONSO, CURIO, and SEBERTO.

Curio. Signior Alphonso, you are too rugged to Believe, too full of harshness. [her,

Alph. Yes, it seems so !

Seb. A father of so sweet a child, so happy,
Fy, sir!) so excellent in all endowments,
In blessedness of beauty, such a mirror !
Alph. She is a fool; away!

Seb. Can you be angry?

Can any wind blow rough upon a blossom
So fair and tender? Can a father's nature,
A noble father too--

Alph. All this is but prating:

Let her be ruled; let her observe my humour;
With my eyes let her see; with my ears listen:
I am her father; I begot her, bred her,
And I will make her-

Curio. No doubt, you may compel her;
But what a mischievous unhappy fortune
May wait upon this will of yours, as commonly
Such forcings ever end in hates and ruins!

Alph. Is't not a man I wish her to? a strong man?

What can she have? what could she have? a gentleman?

A young man? and an abie man? a rich man?
A handsome man? a valiant man? do you mark me?
None of your pieced companions, your pined gal-
lants,

That fly to fitters, with every flaw of weather;
None of your imped bravadoes: What can she
Is't not a mettled man, fit for a woman? [ask more?
A strong-chin'd man? I'll not be fool'd, nor flurted!

Seb. I grant you, Roderigo is all these, And a brave gentleman: Must it therefore follow Upon necessity she must dote upon him? Will you allow no liberty in choosing? Curio. Alas! she's tender yet.

Alph. Enough, enough, enough, sir; She's malleable, she'll endure the hammer: And why not that strong workman that strikes deepest?

Let me know that: She's fifteen, with the vantage, And if she be not ready now for manage

Seb. You know he is a banish'd man, an outlaw, And how he lives; his nature rough and bloody By customary rapines: Now, her sweet humour, That is as easy as a calm, and peaceful; All her affections, like the dews on roses; Fair as the flowers themselves, as sweet and gentle; How would you have these meet?

Alph. A-bed, a-bed, sir:

'Let her be the fairest rose, and the sweetest,
Yet I know this fair rose must have her prickles.
I grant you, Roderigo is an outlaw;
An easy composition calls him in again.
He is a valiant man, and he's a rich man,
And loves the fool; a little rough by custom;
She'll like him ten times better. She'll dote upon

him ;

If e'er they come to grappling, run mad for him:
But there's another in the wind, some castrel,
That hovers over her, and dares her daily;
Some flick'ring slave!

Curio. I dare not think so poorly.
Alph. Something there is, and must be ; but I
shall scent it,

And hunt it narrowly.
Seb. I never saw her yet

Make offer at the least glance of affection, But still so modest, wise

Alph. They are wise to gull us.

There was a fellow, old Ferando's son,
(I must confess handsome, but my enemy,
And the whole family I hate,) young Pedro;
That fellow I have seen her gaze upon,

And turn, and gaze again, and make such offers
As if she would shoot her eyes like meteors at him:
But that cause stands removed.

Curio. You need not doubt him,

For long since (as 'twas thought, on a grieved conscience)

He left his father and his friends; more pity!
For truth reports he was a noble gentleman.

Alph. Let him be what he will, he was a beggar! And there I'll leave him.

Seb. The more the court must answer.

But certainly I think, though she might favour him,

And love his goodness, (as he was an honest man,) She never with loose eyes stuck on his person.

Alph. She is so full of conscience too, and charity,

And outward holiness, she will undo me;
Relieves more beggars than an hospital;

And all poor rogues, that can but say their prayers,
And turn their pipes to lamentations,

She thinks she's bound to dance to.

As those are plentiful, our cares are quench'd then.
Jul. Madam, I think a lusty handsome fellow,
If he be kind and loving, and a right one,
Is even as good a pill to purge this melancholy,
As ever Galen gave; I am sure more natural,
And merrier for the heart, than wine and saffron:
Madam, a wanton youth is such a cataplasm!
Alin. Who has been thy tutor, wench?
Jul. Even my own thoughts, lady;
For though I be barr'd the liberty of talking,
Yet I can think unhappily, and as near the mark,
'Faith, marry, and be merry.
[madam:

Alin. Who will have me?
Who will be troubled with a tettish girl?
(It may be proud, and to that vice expenceful)
Who can assure himself I shall live honest ?

Jul. Let every man take his fortune.
Alin. And, o' my conscience,

If once I grow to breeding, a whole kingdom
Will not contain my stock.

Jul. The more the merrier :

'Tis brave to be a mother of new nations.

Alin. Why, I should bury a hundred husbands. Jul. 'Tis no matter,

As long as you leave sufficient men to stock you. Alin. Is this thy mirth? are these the joys of marriage?

Away, light-headed fool! are these contentments? If I could find a man

Jul. You may, a thousand.

Alin. Mere men I know I may: And there a Has liberty (at least she'll venture for it) [woman To be a monster, and become the time too;

But to enjoy a man, from whose example,
As from a compass, we may steer our fortunes,
Our actions, and our age, and safe arrive at
A memory that shall become our ashes,
Such things are few, and far to seek; to find one
That can but rightly manage the wild beast
Woman,

And sweetly govern with her-But no more of this, wench;

'Tis not for thy discourse: Let's in, and see What poor afflicted wait our charity.

[Exeunt.

Or what itch dost thou know upon me, tell me,
That I should be thy friend? What do I look like?
Any of thy acquaintance hung in gibbets?
Hast thou any friends, kindred, or alliance,
Or any higher ambition than an alms-basket?
2 Beg. I would be your worship's friend.
Por. So you shall, sirrah,

When I quarter the same louse with you.
3 Beg. 'Tis twelve o'clock.

Por. 'Tis ever so with thee, when thou hast done scratching,

For that provokes thy stomach to ring noon. Oh, the infinite seas of porridge thou hast swallow'd!

And yet thou look'st as if they had been but glisters:

Thou feed'st abundance, thou hadst need of sustenance.

Alms do you call it to relieve these rascals? Nothing but a general rot of sheep can satisfy 'em!

Enter ALPHONSO, CURIO, and SEBERTO.

Alph. Did not I tell you, how she would undo What marts of rogues and beggars!

Seb. It is charity,

Methinks, you are bound to love her for.

Alph. Yes, I warrant you!

If men could sail to Heaven in porridge-pots,

[me?

With masts of beef and mutton, what a voyage should I make !—

Curio. A handsome well-built person.

Alph. What country-craver are you?-Nothing A puppet-pilgrim? [but motion?

Old Pil. He's a stranger, sir;

This four days I have travell'd in his company,

But little of his business, or his language,

As yet I have understood.

Seb. Both young and handsome;

Only the sun has been too saucy with him.

Alph. Would you have money, sir, or meat! what kind of blessing

Does your devotion look for?-Still more ducking!
Be there any saints that understand by signs only?
More motion yet?-This is the prettiest Pilgrim,
The pink of Pilgrims! I'll be for you, sir:
Do you discourse with signs? You're heartily
welcome.
[Offers him a piece of gold.
A poor viaticum !-Very good gold, sir;
But holy men affect a better treasure:

I kept it for your goodness; but, ne'ertheless,
Since it can prove but burthensome to your holi-

And safer too, than any of these she-saints!
But I will break her.

Curio. Such a face, for certain !

Seb. Methinks I have seen it too; but we are cozen'd.

But fair befal thee, Pilgrim ! thou look'st lovely. [Exeunt ALPHONSO, CURIO, and SEBERTO Por. Will ye troop up, ye porridge regiment? Captain Poor's-quarter, will you move?

Enter ALINDA and JULETTA.

Alin. You dull knave,

Are not these wretches served yet?
Beggars. 'Bless my mistress!

Alin. Do you make sport, sir, with their miseYou drowsy rogue!

Por. They are too high fed, madam ;

Their stomachs are asleep yet.

Alin. Serve 'em plentifully,

[ries?

Or I'll serve you out next; even out o' doors, And serve 'em quickly too.

Beggars. Heaven bless the lady!

Alin. Bless the good end I mean it for.

Jul. I would I knew it !

[sirrah!

If it be for any man's sake, I'll cry "amen" too. Well, madam, you have e'en as pretty a port of

pensioners

Jul. It seems they are holy Pilgrims. That handsome youth should suffer such a penance! Would I were e'en the saint they make their vows to!

How easily I would grant!

Old Pil. Heaven's grace in-wheel you,

And all good thoughts and prayers dwell about you!

Abundance be your friend! and holy Charity
Be ever at your hand, to crown you glorious!
Alin. I thank you, sir. Peace guide your travels
too,

And what you wish for most, end all your troubles!
Remember me by this; and in your prayers,
When your strong heart melts, mediate my poor
fortunes.
[Gives money.

Old Pil. All my devotions wait upon your service!

Alin. Are you of this country, sir?
Old Pil. Yes, worthiest lady,

But far off bred; my fortunes farther from me.
Alin. Gentle, I dare believe?

Old Pil. I have lived freer.

Ain. I am no inquisitor; that were too curious. Whatever vow or penance pulls you on, sir, Conscience, or love, or stubborn disobedience, The saint you kneel to, hear, and ease your travels! Old Pil. Yours ne'er begin! and thus I seal my [Exit.

prayers.

Alin. How constantly this man looks! how he sighs!

Some great affliction hatches his devotions.-
Right holy sir-How young, and sweet he suffers!
Jul. 'Would I might suffer with him!
Alin. He turns from us.

Alas, he weeps too! Something presses him
He would reveal, but dare not. Sir, be comforted;
You come for that, and take it. If it be want,
sir,

To me you appear so worthy of relieving,

I am your steward: Speak, and take. He s dumb

still!

Now, as I have a faith, this man so stirs me,
His modesty makes me afraid I have trespass'd.
Jul. 'Would he would stir me too! I like his
shape well.

Alin. May-be he would speak alone: Go off,
Juletta.

Afflicted hearts fear their own motions.
Be not far off.

Jul. 'Would I were nearer to him!
A young smug handsome holiness has no fellow.

[Exit.

Alin. Why do you grieve? Do you find your penance sharp ?

Or are the vows you have made too mighty for you?

Does not the world allure you to look back,
And sorrow for the sweet time you have lost?
You are young and fair: Be not deluded, sir;
A manly made-up heart contemns these shadows,
And yours appears no less: Griefs for your fears,

For hours ill-spent, for wrongs done rash and rudely,

For foul contempts, for faiths ill violated,
Become tears well;-I dare not task your good-

ness

And then a sorrow shews in his true glory, When the whole heart is excellently sorry. I pray you be comforted.

Pedro. I am, dear lady;

And such a comfort you have cast upon me,
That, though I struggle with mine own calamities,
Too mighty and too many for my manage;
And though, like angry waves, they curl'd upon me,
Contending proudly who should first devour me,
Yet I would stem their danger.

Alin. He speaks nobly!
What do you want?

Pedro. All that can make me happy; I want myself!

[Apart.

Alin. Yourself? Who robb'd you, Pilgrim ?Why does he look so constantly upon me? Apart "I want myself."-Indeed, you holy wanderers Are said to seek much; but to seek yourselvesPedro. "I seek myself, and am but myself's shadow ;"

Have lost myself, and now am not so noble.
Alin. "I seek myself." Something I yet re-

member

That bears that motto. "Tis not he; he is younger,
And far more tender.-For that self sake, Pilgrim,
Be who it will, take this!
[Offers him moncj.

Pedro. Your hand I dare take;
(That be far from me, lady!) thus I kiss it,
And thus I bless it too. "Be constant, fair, still;
Be good," and live to be a great example! [Erit. |
Alin. One word more, Pilgrim!—He has amazed

me strangely!

Alin. Take this key, and fetch me The marygold-jewel that lies in my little cabinet: I think 'tis that.-What eyes had I to miss him! [Exit JULETTA. Oh me, what thoughts! He had no beard then, and, As I remember well, he was more ruddy, If this be he, he has a manly face yet, A goodly shape.

Enter JULETTA, with the jewel.

Jul. Here, madam.

Alin. Let me see it!-

'Tis so; too true! It must be he, or nothing: He spake the words just as they stand engraved here;

"I seek myself, and am but myself's shadow." Alas, poor man! Didst thou not meet him, Juletta? The Pilgrim, wench?

Jul. He went by long ago, madam.
Alin. I forgot to give him something.
Jul. 'Twas ill done, lady;

For, o'my troth, he is the handsomest man

I saw this many a day: 'Would he had all my wealth, And me to boot!-What ails she, to grow sullen ? Alin. Come, I forgot; but I will recompense it.

[Excunt.